


Fenhawke Drabble

by immortalbears



Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: M/M, Romantic Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-10
Updated: 2015-07-10
Packaged: 2018-04-08 14:44:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,644
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4309194
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/immortalbears/pseuds/immortalbears
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Garrett Hawke is not happy, so he goes and finds that one elf that he's kind of infatuated with, and they proceed to not have sex. </p><p>Written for Fenhawke Week, I guess.</p><p>(I'm really bad at summaries.)</p><p>(Actually constructive concrit welcome.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fenhawke Drabble

The skies of Hightown were purple and riddled with rain. Hawke shut the window quickly as some of the wind blew the raindrops in.

"Good. It'd better not rain tomorrow now that it's raining, or I am going to have to demand a refund." Hawke muttered to himself. Now that the tapping of water against the windowsill could be interpreted as relaxing since his mansion was no longer turning into a pool, he sat down by the table again to work on his accounts.

If there was one thing Hawke hated working on, it was his accounts. Bethany had always been much better at this, and, well, she flung herself at an ogre to protect them all. And, despite how Leandra would have it, that was most certainly not his fault. Hawke trucked through, trying not to think about Leandra, who was now by the Maker's side with Bethany. If the Maker even existed and was what the Chantry said He was, and not some metaphysical equivalent of piss-drunk shithead who accidentally puked up half a creation and then called in sick for work, they probably would be by his side. Probably.

Hawke was starting to feel absolutely morose by the time he had finished his accounts, and was considering getting some wine to help drown his sorrows. Of course, he could also visit the elf who was squatting at his former master's mansion, but that place was most certainly not hospitable, and, besides, it was raining. Rain was always a good excuse to not go anywhere.

Of course, Hawke realised that he could have gone to Fenris any time, and the value was not in what the elf could have said (he was terrible at it), but the fact that he was there. Hawke was not in the habit of telling anybody his personal woes, especially since he had to keep up a front, and had done so ever since he was a snotty-nosed kid running around with two siblings on his back.

Then there was Carver, the traitorous little shit, who seemed to have joined the Templars just to mock him and their familial legacy - the Hawkes' legacy, not the Amells'. (Gamlen and Leandra seemed perfectly mundane, and Garrett Hawke supposed that if not for the fact that his father was an apostate, there would have been no magic running inside him and his dead sibling.) Carver Hawke, was the sort of person who absolutely needed something to protect. He was the sort of soldier who went for the draft and had to be pulled like a goddamned baby out of a trashcan out of the battlefield after King Cailan fell. In the end, it always fell to him to do the dirty work, which included sitting on Carver's chest and slapping him until he came out of his stupor. Loyal, moronic little fool. And then there was their brief stinct with Meeran, before Leandra showed up begging him to leave the poor kid alone. So he did. It was Garrett Hawke's templars, after all, not Carver Hawke's templars. The kid had always wanted to belong somewhere with the mundanes, and Garrett Hawke would have been fine with that. But now that he had the gall to join a military establishment that was mostly dedicated towards hunting him down and feeding their recruits with lyrium, Hawke considered disowning what was left of his family.

...Screw it, he was making his way to Fenris'. By all means, he did not want to chase after the elf, but he was going to chase after the elf, and probably look like a fool. Why not be twice the fool, now that his brother made him look like one?

"I really shouldn't go out there while it's raining." Hawke said, putting on one shoe at a time. He went out there while it was raining, splashing the puddles on the street with his boots like a very sore and very morose man. "Hopefully it's not brooding night for him, and he'll actually have me around. What could I get him? Wine? Flowers? That's ridiculous. It's not like you need a reason to just visit somebody."

On the contrary, Hawke decided that that was precisely what a stalker or a jilted lover would do, and he headed back to his mansion, grabbed the nearest waterproof trinket that he could find - a family crest - and then head back out again.

"Right. I just happened to be in the area, in this soggy armour, being rained on like some loser in a bad romance novel, and I just happened to find this little crest sitting somewhere on my desk, and I thought of you. Isn't that romantic." Hawke could barely contain the sarcasm in his own voice. He sighed and decided to shut up, since he had reached his destination, and Fenris was there. Probably barefoot and criminally cute. Barefoot for certain, and criminally cute was a given.

"Fenris?"

"Hawke?"

"No, it's Anders." Hawke replied. He was most certainly not Anders.

He could hear the chuckle, and decided that Fenris must definitely be absurdly cute right there, right then, in a way that he was not going to tolerate not seeing. Something inside his heart felt like it was about to burst, so he went ahead and headed to Fenris' room. "One handsome apostate, coming right up."

Fenris leaned against the door frame, one leg propped up against it, the way he stood when they first met. Hawke remembered thinking that nobody - absolutely nobody - stood like that. Even if they were that cute. He could not help smiling a little.

"Were you sleeping?" Hawke asked, noting the uncharacteristic bedhair and the eyebags that accompanied it.

"I was trying to." Fenris said, lowering his gaze for a moment, in a way that made Hawke think was probably not good.

"Bad day, then?" Hawke found the bench and invited himself to it. "I would have brought wine, but it was more of a spur of the moment. You know how it goes. Just a day trip to the Viscount's office, and then you wind up in the Deep Roads with enough wealth to keep the templars away."

"Mhm." Fenris replied. "It is good to have you here, nonetheless."

Oh... Maker. Fenris was so gentle that Hawke felt like he could bust a vein. He thought of something to try and deflect from that pesky thing called feelings. "How has the reading been going? Anything you need help with?"

"I have not been reading, unfortunately."

"No? But look at the manifesto that Anders has stuffed in my closet!"

"Pass." Fenris replied quickly. Then, curiously, "Did you read them?"

"I could." Hawke said. "But you know, I didn't become rich just so that I could deal with being a mage in a world that wants me locked up. In fact, I took so many risks so that I could do the exact opposite. So no, I haven't read it."

"I can understand that. Wanting to escape from the very thing that keeps you shackled, yet having no means to do so." Fenris said, quietly.

"If Danarius ever visits, you know where to find me." Hawke said. Fighting Danarius would be easy. It was something that he could actually do. He knew how to fight mages, since he was one himself. The entire templar order, all of whom were trained to disarm mages, not so much.

The elf snorted derisively. "Mages. He would not come without a scout and some elaborate plan. What irony, that the man who left these marks on me and took away all of my memories would in fact be such a coward."

"Bravery is for those who don't have any options, Fenris." Hawke eyed him up. "You have some Templar skills, but without being addicted to lyrium. I wouldn't want to fight you, either."

"You know that I would not fight you." Fenris smiled. He sat down beside Hawke. "And I would not want to lose you to the templars either, Hawke."

"Well, that makes the two of us." Hawke sighed. He really should stop deflecting all of their concerns with a misplaced sense of humour. "...Look. I'm serious about my offer with Danarius. If anything happens, just come to me. In fact, you should have this crest, so that everybody knows that if they're messing with you, they're messing with me."

Hawke reached into his pouch and handed him the small shield. Fenris took it and began to fasten it to his belt, as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

Hawke blinked. He did not think that Fenris would accept it so easily and gracefully. He cleared his throat, felt like a big clumsy bear, and tried to lean closer and put his arm around the elf.

Fenris leaned against him quietly, and they both looked into the fire.

"If you can't sleep, you could always try thinking of me." Hawke said. "I have been told that I am very cuddly."

Fenris giggled. "I might take you up on your offer. ...Your presence certainly helps, Hawke. I appreciate your visit."

Hawke's mind did, in fact, go to places that should not have. He also managed to extract it from the gutter. Fenris might not be delicate or made of glass, but there were some things that he certainly should not breach, and trust was one of those things. If he had come to Fenris and just started rutting against him, while Fenris welcomed him with hospitality... He crossed his leg and hoped that his will of steel would make it a lot less awkward for their amorous-and-completely-non-sexual needs. Maker's balls, he really _did_ like the elf. 

"I take that as an offer for more visitations in the future."

Fenris smiled, and seemed to melt into Hawke's arm. "You're right, Hawke. You are very cuddly."

 


End file.
